Hark the Herald Enjolras
by MissZatanna
Summary: In which Enjolras buys too many Christmas wreaths. ll An Enjonine oneshot ll Modern au


Christmas is Eponine's favorite time of the year by far. The thought of cold fingers wrapped around mugs of hot chocolate, decorated trees with strings of lights and whimsical ornaments, and others giving and receiving parcels of kindness and cheer makes her heart swell. Her parents were never into the holidays (hell, her parents were hardly even parents at all), which is why she thinks that she's so into it. It was something she never had as a child and is absolutely determined to make up for the loss now and all the years to come. As she thinks about what to do first to get into the holiday spirit when she gets off of her shift, her thoughts are interrupted by blonde curls and piercing blue eyes.

For a moment, she's confused why he's looking at her so expectedly. That is until she realizes that she's at the Customer Service desk and he probably has a question. She silently reprimands herself for daydreaming (again) and returns to the present time. She kindly smiles at the man and asks how she can help him.

He seems like he's forgotten his request for a second before finally remembering with a relieved smile. "Christmas wreaths," he says. "Can you tell me where to find them?"

Eponine works in a holiday shop. Its main product: wreaths. They have all kinds for all holidays. Considering the fact that the wreaths somehow _always _end up in piles of disorganized chaos, it's no surprise that he should ask since many others have prompted her for the same information. She motions to the back with a small smile. "Aisle seven—all the way down and to the right."

He says a quick "thank you," before making his way down. Though Eponine does have other things in her mind, she doesn't miss the way his eyes lingered on her face before swiftly running off. She has to admit, the man was definitely good looking. His curly blonde hair had fallen into his eyes just a bit and his blue orbs lit up his face, adding just the right pop of color.

After a few more minutes of imagining stockings adorning her fireplace and the smell of gingerbread wafting throughout her small apartment, she glances up to see the long checkout lines filling the aisles for what seems like forever. Their annual Christmas sale is happening and it is always busy. This year, however, is _insane_. She notices the familiar face staring at her from the middle of one line that seems to go on for yards.

Eponine quietly decides to take a chance, hoping that he'll notice and come over. There's a cash register at the Customer Service desk anyhow so she may as well put it to good use. "I can help someone over here," she calls out.

The man's head snaps up to look at her, a small, barely noticeable smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He makes his way over and is the first in the line. He sets his decided items on the counter and pulls out his wallet. He smiles at her a little, and she smiles back automatically. Though this particular expression is brighter than the one she usually gives the customers she serves.

"Are you ready to check me out?" Her eyes widen immediately after the words are out of her mouth. "I mean check out, are you ready to check out?" She laughs nervously and can feel her cheeks warm beneath her skin.

He laughs too and looks down at the counter bashfully. Eponine starts scanning the items before coming up with the total fairly quickly. He swipes his card when she says to but the computer makes a harsh beeping sound, rejecting his purchase. After pressing some buttons and trying to fix the problem, he swipes again but the same thing happens. "I'll have put it in manually," she sighs apologetically, glancing up quickly at him from the computer screen.

He doesn't look angry or annoyed (much unlike the customers behind him who are waiting impatiently to check out). When he hands her his card, their fingers touch for a split second. She tries to ignore the spark flickering against her skin as he pulls away. She hears one of her co-workers call over that he can take some people up at his register, and every person scurries in his direction.

This blue-eyed man stands before her, just them two alone. (Well, as alone as they can be in a bustling shop.) "Are you excited for Christmas?" she asks casually while she types in the numbers on his card. Her eyes dart back and forth from the card to the screen but she can see from her peripheral vision that he shrugs a little and runs a hand through his hair.

"I suppose," he answers though not apathetically. The casual response flows off of his tongue, his voice velvety and low. "I was never really one to be excited about the holidays."

His admittance makes her stop for a moment and look at him in disbelief. How could anyone not love Christmas? "What about the season then?" Eponine asks. "Hot chocolate, snow on the ground, Michael Buble singing Christmas carols."

His nose scrunches up cutely and she can't help but laugh. "Not a fan, I take it." She shakes her head at him with a smile. She hands him back his card and silently wishes that maybe he's forgotten to pick something up, and he'll grab it now so they can stay talking for just a bit longer. But she hands him his packages, ignoring once again the flame lit between them when their hands touch.

"Not quite," he agrees with a small smile. "To be honest, I've never had hot chocolate." She can tell that her jaw hangs open when he explains, "well, I had it once when I was little. My mom made me some." His sentence trails off as if he's uncomfortable with the thought. She closes her mouth and nods silently. "It was rubbish."

Eponine quickly grabs a post-it note conveniently stuck to the side of the register and jots something down with the pen stored in the pocket of her smock. She tries to make her handwriting as neat at possible but it still looks like chicken scratch in the end. Handing it to him, she points to the address with the end of her pen. "Lottie's Coffee," she says with finality. "Best hot chocolate on the planet."

He looks at it and smiles, gingerly folding it into quarters and slipping it into his pocket. "I'll definitely have to try it. Thank you," he says, holding up his bag. He glances at her name tag to put a name to her face. "Eponine."

"You're very welcome."

The man gives a small wave before slipping out the doors. She hopes he suddenly decides to absolutely love the season and want to decorate like crazy so she can see him again. She reluctantly goes back to work, cutting ribbons and wrapping packages, thinking about gingerbread and candy canes._  
_

* * *

The next few days are pretty much dead. The sale had hit its peak in the middle of the week and was now slowly cascading to a stop. No one comes to the desk with a wreath or a cart full of items. Two or three things at the most, really. Eponine sighs loudly. When Jehan doesn't answer she takes a deep breath and lets out the most dramatic exhale one will ever hear. Finally he looks up from his register and raises an eyebrow at her. "Yes?"

"I'm bored," she whines. Eponine stretches her arms out at her sides and then in front of her, looking somewhat akin to a cat waking up from its nap. "Absolutely no one is here."

Her co-worker clears his throat, his eyes darting to someone behind her. She quickly turns around to see a pair of strikingly blue eyes. It's him. He carries a wreath in his hand and a small smile appears on his lips. She can't help but feel her heart flutter. "Hello again."

He greets her in return and sets his item of choice on the table. Jehan can see sparks flaming between the two and lets a small smile pull at the corners of his lips. Before he can begin to ring up his purchase, he clicks his tongue and motions to the back with a tilt of his head. "I think our boss actually wanted me to rearrange the wreaths today, make it a little easier to find everything. Ep, would you mind checking him out for me?"

She raises an eyebrow at him and finally nods, heading to his now vacant register. Sly bastard. "Sorry about that," she murmurs to the customer, scanning the tag on his wreath. This time he pays in cash, probably to avoid another scanning problem, though Eponine would like to think it's so their hands will touch again. Too fast the order is complete and he's about to walk out just as Jehan comes back from "organizing the wreaths".

"See you later, Enjolras," he calls out.

The man who now has a name says back with a wave, "You too."

Once he's left and the coast is clear of any noticeable witness, Eponine punches Jehan on the arm. _Hard. _

His mouth hangs open and his brow is furrowed in confusion and a hint more of pain. Before he can even question her act, she says accusingly, "You two know each other?"

Jehan nods feebly, flinching as Eponine's hand comes up though only to rest on her hip. She asks how with narrowed eyes and he answers that they're both part of some small, independent Human Rights Organization. She's heard him mention the group before but never more than once. Apparently not only is Enjolras part of it, but the _leader. _

Eponine lets the subject go but worries her lip between her teeth at a thought. "You didn't actually organize wreaths, did you?"

Jehan shakes his head with a small smile. "Don't think I didn't notice the small fireworks in your eyes at the sight of him. I thought I may as well do you a favor and let love take its course."

An unlady-like snort comes from her and she rolls her eyes at him. "Jean Prouvaire, what makes you think it's 'love'?"

She receives his own eyeroll in return and a short, "Oh, I know it is."

* * *

Enjolras visits them three more times during the week - once when Eponine was working and twice when she was off for the day - and she gets a feeling that he's not just buying wreaths to herald his excitement for the coming holiday.

It's a Saturday and she's thankfully not in the holiday shop and not hearing Frosty the Snowman for the millionth time since their speaker and audio system is broken and stuck on replay. She feels a twinge of guilt for leaving Jehan in that tortuous situation and decides to bring him a treat. Lottie's Coffee is a little busy but not filled to the absolute brim as usual. She removes her scarf from around her neck and holds it as she orders, the knitted accessory warming her hands.

She orders a raisin and cranberry scone along with a peppermint mocha latte. The barista says that she'd have to make a new batch of the pastries and Eponine agrees to wait politely. They're Jehan's favorite. She waits at the counter and looks around the shop. The place is rustic and just a little bit cliche. Someone is typing furiously on their computer in the corner with what would seem like their sixth shot of espresso sitting next to them on the end table of the couch; a small group of friends laugh and share stories with each other at their own table across the room; and a man reads a book with serene concentration with a drink and a scone resting in front of him on the coffee table before his armchair.

She tilts her head as she reads the gold-lettered title on the spine. "You read Voltaire?" she asks, her voice shattering his devotion to the book for a moment and causing him to look up. She should have known from the shock of blonde curls that it was him. "Oh, Enjolras! Hi, um, how are you?" She smiles a little and sits in the armchair next to him.

Enjolras smiles warmly at her in greeting. "I'm doing fine, and you?" She says everything's going well. "That's good, I'm glad to hear it." An awkward silence passes for a moment before Eponine pipes up as she glances down at his own order.

"You finally tried the hot chocolate?" she asks with excitement forming in her stomach. "How do you like it?"

He laughs at her animation and the corners of his eyes crinkle. "Surprisingly, it's not half bad. Nothing like my mother's anyhow." He picks up the warm cup and takes a sip, his brow furrowing as the smooth liquid dances on his tongue before running down his throat. It's adorable.

"I highly recommend trying their triple chocolate brownies with it. It's heaven in a baked good."

The barista calls out her order and she goes to pick it up before sitting back down next to Enjolras. He perks up a little and raises his eyebrows when he says, "You know, this is probably my second hot chocolate here this week." His voice is a little sheepish, almost as if he's embarrassed at his admittance.

Eponine scoffs teasingly and waves her hand dismissively. "I come here every morning for my coffee, and probably fifty five percent of the time I'm out. They know me by name."

Enjolras smiles at her fondly and she can feel her cheeks heating. "A true coffee shop connoisseur." They end up talking about how he and Jehan know each other and the group they're a part of. This tumbles into how he's going to law school and Eponine's part time job while she's studying for her college degree in social work. They don't talk much about their histories or anything personal, but share tidbits of funny stories and little insignificant things that turn into very significant things by the end of the night.

Two cups of hot chocolate and one shared triple chocolate brownie later, they exchange phone numbers, sealing the deal with a funny picture of the other on each other's phone for their contact photo. She's not home until around eleven at night, which is crazy considering that she went to her favorite coffee shop around _six o'clock_, just five hours earlier.

* * *

When she walks into work the next morning, she finds Enjolras and Jehan talking quietly at his register. The place is vacant once again and wonders if this is Enjolras' new place he's decided to frequent. With sly smile she teases as she passes him, "Oh, don't tell me I have a stalker." Honestly, if it was Enjolras, she wouldn't mind.

A small blush blossoms on his cheeks and she can't help but smile at him. He clears his throat before answering, "Not quite." He pulls out her purple scarf from his pocket and holds it out to her. "You left this at the cafe last night. I just thought I would return it to you."

She thanks him quietly and takes it from him. They gaze at each other for a moment before Jehan's pointed cough breaks them out of their reveries and sends them back to the present. "Right, well, I guess I'll see you later then." He mainly says it to Eponine but throws in a quick glance at his friend towards the end, realizing his rudeness. With a murmured farewell and a grin in Eponine's direction, he leaves the premises.

Not five minutes later, her phone chimes and she can't hide the smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she checks her messages.

_Lottie's Coffee tonight at 5? -E_

Jehan takes a nonchalant sip of his coffee and smiles at nothing in particular. "Can I say I told you so?"

Eponine can't disguise her beaming smile as she says, "Just this once."

* * *

**A/N: I know you guys are wondering why I'm posting this Christmas based fic in February (Sarah, you have lost your head), but I found this little tidbit in my drafts from around Christmas time, and I honestly wanted to finish it just because I haven't written anything in a long while, and I really need to get back into the groove. I found this idea from a drabble meme which I will link in my description on my profile. Read and review please, and I promise I will try to write more! You guys are lovely and I wish you all a Happy Valentine's Day if I don't see you until then!**


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